The Kindness, or not, of Strangers
by A.H.S. Stories
Summary: A storm injures a stowaway, and a shocking discovery leaves Jack wondering about her origins even more. Jack & OFC, implied violence, but no foul language. Later Chapters will be R. :) R&R - temporarily on hold, sorry.
1. A Stowaway

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC, any of the characters created by 1)Disney, 2)Ted Elliott, 3) Terry Rossio for said film. Original characters are mine to the best of my knowledge. All other POTC references belong to Disney and Buena Vista, not me. I do not pretend to be a historical expert, but will endeavor to remain true to the past in this story, all other diversions should be attributed to either 1)author's creative license or 2) It's Captain Jack Sparrow, anything's possible!

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Stowing aboard a strange ship in the dark of night probably hadn't been the smartest thing that Netanya Wilkes had done in her lifetime; but it had seemed the best option at the time. That was two days ago. Now, as the boat tossed from side to side in the midst of a sudden storm, her stomach ached with hunger. She had managed to find a tiny corner of the hold where she could hide successfully, but hadn't been able to gather a meal for herself without running the risk of being caught by one of the crewman. "Just as well," she thought to herself. The way the boat was rocking in the stormy waters, she wasn't completely sure that a full stomach would have made the experience any more tolerable. 

Leaning back against a stack of crates that were lashed to the wall, she closed her eyes, listening, as the crew on deck above her battled Mother Nature for control over the ship. Suddenly, the ship gave a great lurch to the side, tearing loose one of the ropes holding the cargo secure. Netanya steadied her balance and pushed down the strong urge to panic, then fell forward, crumpled in a heap, onto the deck as a heavy crate flew from it's mooring and struck the back of her skull. Her mind barely registered the impact as her forehead struck the hard, wet, wooden boards of the hold. Darkness came over her and the fierce howling of the storm was drowned out by eerie silence.

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Captain Jack Sparrow stood at the helm of his ship, the Black Pearl. Looking to his right, he addressed his first mate, "All hands accounted for Mr. Gibbs?"

"Aye sir," came the reply. "A bit wetter than t'were when we began, but none the worse for wear." 

"And the Pearl?"

"We'll be havin' a bit o' picking up to do, without a doubt, Cap'n, but no major damage." 

Jack grunted his approval at this report, and was about to comment further on the storm, when a startled, urgent cry came up from below.

"Gibbs..." Jack nodded in the direction of the commotion.

With barely a glance back in reply, Gibbs made his way across the deck to see what the clamor was about. "Right you scabbarous dogs; what be the problem?"

"The men found someone trapped in the hold, sir," one of the men said as Gibbs climbed into the belly of the ship. "They're digging 'im out now."

"S'e alive?" Gibbs queried as he reached the floor, turning and leaning forward as three crew members hastily moved the last of the fallen cargo away from the frighteningly still figure before him on the floor of the hold. One of the men, Cooley, felt along the figure's neck as the other two rolled the body face up.

"Aye sir," he began, surprise seeping into his voice as he continued, "she is." Leaning back, he allowed his superior to see the figure of a woman lying on the hold floor before them. 

Turning to the crewman nearest him, Gibbs ordered, "Get the Captain."

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	2. The Discovery

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Disclaimer: Please see chapter 1, I'm not going to add the thing to every single page. :-p

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Jack stared at the hatch to the hold, watching as his first mate disappeared below. He wasn't worried in the least until another crewman, Jeffries, he thought, or Jamison, he never could remember which one was which, came dashing up from the hold moments later, calling to him as he approached.

"Mr. Gibbs wants to see you below Cap'n," he spoke urgently, taking the wheel without order as Jack strode past him to the hold.

"What the bloody hell is the commotion about," Jack began as he climbed down. Turning, he came face to face with a very somber Gibbs.

"Stowaway, sir," he said matter-of-factly. "And she's hurt."

Jack's sleep deprived mind was still struggling to process those words as Gibbs stepped aside, allowing him to see the still form on the floor before him. Kneeling down, he sucked in his breath as his eyes confirmed what his mind was not quite sure of. There was a woman on board his ship. Dressed in pants, boots and a baggy shirt, that when dry may have masked her gender from casual observers, but when wet, (as now) clung to the gentle curves that marked her figure as undeniably female. The woman was remarkably striking despite her crudely shortened amber hair. Only her fearful pallor kept the faint stirrings in Jack's gut in check. Reaching for a pulse along her neck, he was struck, worriedly, by how cold her skin was.

Rising quickly, he turned to his crew, "You three," he said, gesturing to the men who had uncovered her body, "Gibbs, get her to my cabin... and move her carefully." 

"Aye Captain," Gibbs acknowledged the order without question.

"The rest o'ye, get these supplies stowed. Account for any losses. I want this ship in order come dinner."

"Aye," his crew responded, scurrying to their tasks as he emerged quickly from the hold and strode across the deck to his quarters.

Jack hastily gathered several extra blankets from his dresser, removing a pair of breeches and a dry shirt as an afterthought, and laying them on the end of his bed, just as Gibbs, Cooley, and the others entered his cabin, carefully bearing the limp figure of his mysterious female stowaway. Gently, Netanya's body was placed onto the captain's rather large bed at the center of the rear of room.

"Back to yer duties now," Mr. Gibbs ordered his companions. "No one disturbs us unless absolutely necessary," Jack added just as the men reached his cabin door.

"Understood Captain," Cooley said as he closed the cabin door behind them.

Jack and Gibbs turned back and surveyed the scene before them. The petite woman before them could have easily been mistaken for a child were it not for her mature development. Jack guessed she was no younger than nineteen years of age. Thick, wavy hair, scraggly from her attempts to disguise herself, had already begun to soak the pillow beneath her head. Her normally fair complexion was now deathly pale; her lips displaying a bluish tinge. Her chest rose and fell with slow, shallow breaths, and a thing trickle of blood still oozed from her forehead where a narrow gash above her right eyebrow hadn't completely scabbed over. Were it not for the fact that she was well on her way to resembling a corpse, Jack would have further entertained the thought that this mysterious woman was really in fact, quite striking.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Jack sat alongside Netanya's prone figure and nimbly began to unlace her soaked shirt. Gibbs moved silently to his side, dry shirt in hand. Raising the lasses' arms above her head, Jack quickly worked to both remove the soaking wet shirt from her chilled body and redress her naked torso with the dry shirt proffered by Gibbs. He reminded himself as he glimpsed her flawless skin that he was in this position only in an attempt to save her from dying from some combination of shock and cold. If she ever awakened, perhaps he would allow himself the luxury of getting to know her better.

Closing his eyes, Jack hesitated, clinging to his self control, as his fingers moved to undo the fastenings of her breeches.

"Ye must Cap'n," Gibbs spoke, reading his actions, "her only chance is to be warmed up and you can't very accomplish that leaving her soaked as a cat." He held the dry pants now, in readiness.

Making eye contact briefly with his closest friend aboard the Pearl, Jack nodded almost imperceptibly. Hooking his fingers around the waistband of her breeches, he began to peel the garment down her legs, forcing himself to avert his eyes as he did. A sharp intake of air from Gibbs drew his gaze quickly back to the girl, causing his face to flush with a deep, raw emotion. These reactions were not stimulated because of her lack of undergarments however.

As Jack cast aside the wet garment and began to gently but quickly draw up their dry replacement, he couldn't keep his gaze from taking in the vast array of bruises and cuts that liberally coated her legs from knee to hip. Layers of bruises in various stages of healing were most concentrated around her thighs and small crescent shaped cuts of various sizes and depths circled around her knees. Jack's stomach churned as he fastened the breeches, as his mind finally found an identity for the marks that encircled her hips and buttocks. Bright purple and fainter yellow palm prints, more than he could count, had been layered like tattoos on her delicate pale skin. The crescents he realized with disgust, were nail marks. "Where did you come from Lass?" he thought to himself as he gazed at her still unconscious form.

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	3. A New Dawn

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Disclaimer: See chapter 1, I'm not wasting type repeating the darn thing. If you 

recognize stuff, it's Disney & Co's. If you don't it's mine. :-D

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Fighting to keep from trembling with the unspoken rage he now felt for whomever had done this, Jack tenderly wrapped his arms around the girl; sitting her up slowly so Gibbs could wrap one of the extra blankets around her shoulders. 

"There's barely any heat left in her," Gibbs muttered as he wrapped a second blanket around her shoulders.

The rage in Jack's eyes melted away slightly as his lips pursed with concern. 

"Have some warm grog brought up as soon as possible," he said, scooping the girl up into his arms. As carefully as he could manage without the use of his hands, Jack scooted himself to the head of his bed. Pulling a third blanket over the girl, who he now had cradled against his side, her head listing against his right shoulder; he leaned against the headboard as Gibbs quickly exited the cabin. For just a moment he closed his eyes, hoping that whatever forces there were acting in this girl's life that they got her through the night alive. Opening his eyes and glancing out the cabin window, he realized that perhaps he hadn't asked for quite enough, as the sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon. Drawing the still unconscious girl closer to him, and tugging the top blanked to cover the both of them more thoroughly, Jack finally closed his eyes and allowed his body to get the rest it had been so thoroughly denied for the past twenty hours.

"Cold, so very cold," the though nagged deep in Netanya's subconscious. She relaxed slightly as a wave of warmth enveloped her body and slowly retreated back into the peaceful darkness around her; a small sigh escaping her lips as she snuggled into the warm haven.

"Open your mouth and drink this love." A gravely, but soft voice invaded her peaceful oblivion. "Come on," the voice grew more insistent. Obliging, Netanya felt a cup gently pressed to her lips; felt a strong arm around her shoulders, propping her up. A liquid that was almost too hot to stand flowed into her mouth and burned its way down into her stomach. "One more sip love, then I'll leave ya be," the voice coaxed. Still asleep really, Netanya obliged, relaxing as a fuzzy warmth began to grow insider her and spread to the tips of her fingers and toes.

Netanya sighed in contentment as she rolled over and felt the warm rays of the sun on her face. It hadn't stopped raining very much this week in London. What a quiet morning it was too. "The birds haven't even woken up yet," she thought to herself, then stopped; remembering. She wasn't in England anymore. This thought dragged her sharply out of her subconscious as her eyes flew open. A window. There hadn't been a window in the hold.

Rolling over, Netanya's gaze swept across the room, taking in her surroundings. Her breath caught in her throat as her survey stopped upon a man; no, a Pirate, sitting in a large wooden chair not three feet to her left. His gaze was fixed squarely on her, his face almost void of expression, save a slight upturning of his mouth and a warmness in his dark eyes. And they were dark. Rimmed with kohl, they were nearly menacing, but the softness of his countenance seemed to balance their effect, leaving a dramatic air instead. Netanya did not take her eyes off of his, watching his expression intently. She had seen similar signs of "kindness" transform in a fraction of a moment into lustful leers and dangerous coldness.


	4. A Confrontation of Sorts

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, why waste good space rewriting the darn thing? :-P

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"You're on my ship without permission lass;" Jack spoke evenly, in a neutral tone. "A lesser man would have cast you off 'rather than save ye from freezin'' to death," he added, shifting his feet off from their bedside perch and leaning closer toward the girl. He stopped his motion however as the girl scurried her entire body up to the opposite head board before his body had even come out of the chair.

"It's all right lass;" he soothed, never taking his gaze away from hers. He was surprised by the drastic change that her expression had undergone. The peaceful calm that had shown itself during her slumber had been replaced with a cautious alert surprise when she had discovered him at her bedside. But, even that image had completely disappeared when he had moved to stand. Now, an expression of abject terror lay plastered on her rapidly paling countenance. There was a haunted quality to it as well, and Jack guessed that a part of her mind was in a place he couldn't possibly begin to imagine.

"It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you." Jack waited long moments, as she seemed to consider his words. Slowly, her features began to relax her breathing slowed. "Do you understand me?" Jack asked, edging himself into a sitting position at the corner of the bed where his feet had previously been resting. Gazing at him so intently that Jack began to wonder if she was able to see his very soul; the girl slowly nodded her head several times. 

"Cap'n," a soft knock sounded on the cabin door before Mr. Gibbs moved quickly into the room. "Repairs ''ave been finished on the Pearl; we're just waitin''..." he trailed off and stopped dead still in the center of the room as he caught sight of Jack's outstretched hand signaling him to stay back. The girl, he saw, had sprung up from the bed and was now cowering behind one of the sturdy chairs at the table by the window. Her fingers were wrapped around the back of the chair so tightly that her knuckles were rapidly blanching.

Slowly, Jack rose and spoke to the girl. "Lass," he soothed, his voice turning soft and non-threatening, "It's ok. This is me first mate, Mr. Gibbs. He won't be meaning you any harm, I promise ye." Slowly, he began to inch his way closer to the girl. "I promise you," he repeated as he stood before her, capturing her gaze again; blocking her view of Gibbs. "Do ye understand?" He pressed the question on her again, never wavering in his gentle tone. "Lass..." Cursing softly to himself, Jack moved quickly to catch the young woman as her face lost all of it's color and she fainted dead away.

Cradling her petite body once again in his arms, Jack laid her gently down on his bed again and carefully drew up one of the blankets to her chin. Turning to Mr. Gibbs, he met the man's questioning gaze. " Can you take a watch here Gibbs while I get us underway?"

"Aye sir," Gibbs replied, "and what am I to do if she wakes up again?"

"Try to win her trust, but don't let her up from that bed. I'll have the cook send up a bit of something of sustenance for the both of you." Jack continued as he walked to the door of his cabin. "Oh, and Gibbs," he added as he closed the door behind him, "Try and find out her name if ye can."

With a sigh, Gibbs crossed to the chair Jack had previously occupied at the foot of the bed. This voyage, he could tell, was going to be one hell of an experience. He couldn't quite bring himself to think of the lass as bad luck just yet however. The images from the night before still haunted his subconscious, drowning out his superstitious nature for the time being at least.

Jack had managed to return to his cabin shortly after the noon meal. Gibbs had informed him that the lass had woken briefly and had eaten a bit of food, but had not spoken a word to him. Jack had taken a good look at his first mate and upon finding deep circles around the man's eyes, promptly ordered him to follow in the steps of their guest and get a decent rest. He left Anamaria in charge on deck and had put off eating his share of the evening meal that had been delivered nearly an hour ago. The lass was still sound asleep and he had hoped she would wake on her own to the smell of the food. 

Crossing to the head of the bed, he knelt down alongside his slumbering guest and placed his hand very gently on the frail looking woman's shoulder. "Lass," he breathed the word out gently, "wake up love, ye've got the get some food into you."

"It's all right;" he soothed, removing his hand as she started violently, her eyes flying open. "Didn't mean to startle ya love, but I couldn't let ye go the night without some nourishment." He stood up and stepped back slightly as she moved herself into a sitting position. Extending his hand to her, Jack continued, "would you care to join me at the table love?"


	5. A Proper Introduction

Disclaimer: You know the routine by now, see chapter 1. Read & Review Folks, It's only fair. :)

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Eying him carefully, Netanya stood up and walked over to the table. Sitting in the chair at the side of the table, she surveyed the food before her as Jack moved to take his place at the head of the table. The meal was a simple one; what looked like vegetable stew, with chicken, rolls, a large pitcher of water and a flask which she assumed held brandy or rum or wine, whichever her host fancied most.

As she tasted the stew, hunger overrode propriety as well caution. She was pleasantly surprised at the good flavor the cook had managed. A small smile crossed Jack's lips as he watched the girl dig into her meal. It was obvious that she hadn't had a proper meal in a while. He began to silently eat his own serving, pausing occasionally to inspect the woman before him. He tried to figure out exactly who, or what, she was. Questions could always wait, he decided as he took in her famished indulgence in the meal.

After the girl had finished eating, Jack settled back into his see and looked the lass square in the eyes.

"What be yer name lass?" he inquired, reaching for the flask of rum as he spoke.

Netanya straightened herself in the chair. She knew that she would have to answer questions sooner or later, might as well get it over with as soon as possible. Looking at Jack quickly, she replied, "Netanya Wilkes, but I've always been called Tanya."

"Well then Miss Wilkes," Jack began before correcting himself when he saw the irked expression on her face, "Tanya, please allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Jack Sparrow, and this," Jack gestured broadly to the ship around them, "Is the Black Pearl." Jack paused again, his gaze seeming to invite Tanya to continue speaking.

Tanya thought back, recalling his words that morning, had it been that morning? She wasn't positive. Shaking her head slightly to clear her mind of those ruminations, she addressed Jack again.

"I would like to apologize Captain, for having become an unauthorized passenger aboard your ship."

"What's done is done luv," Jack replied, "I'm sure you had your reasons."

Netanya's eyes flashed briefly and she nodded slightly, breaking her gaze away from Jack's. Leaning forward slightly to grasp Tanya's glass, Jack pressed further, "This would be when you go about naming those reasons lass." He spoke as he poured a few fingers of rum into her glass.

*****

Tanya could feel a muscle along her jaw twitch as she processed the Captain's words. What could she tell him that wouldn't lead to more questions? Questions that she couldn't handle right now. Questions that brought her mind back to places and events that she wanted more than anything to leave far behind her and never return to again. Trying to reign in her racing thoughts, she glanced up at Jack.

"Rum, lass?" His fingers barely pushed her now full glass closer to her side of the table.

"I'd rather not Captain," she said, shrinking back into her chair a bit, as if to place herself as far as was politely possible from the offending substance. Taking a deep breath, Tanya began to relay her story to the Captain.

"Two weeks ago, I was on board the "Silver Wing", a merchant ship sailing from England to Santo Domingo. We were attacked by a pirate ship and sunk. Only a handful of the "Silver Wing's" passengers and crew survived the attack..." Here Tanya's face grimaced ever so slightly and her voice threatened to crack with a pained emotion that Jack could sense was hovering just beneath her surface. "We were taken as prisoners aboard their ship. When we arrived in Tortuga nearly two weeks later, I took an opportunity to escape and flee as far away as possible." Inwardly, Tanya held her breath as she hoped the Captain would accept her story for what it was, vague. Relaxing a bit as she saw him nod slightly to himself, Tanya settled back into her chair fully, closing her eyes briefly as she offered up a silent prayer of thanks to who ever had been listening.

Jack eyed the girl before him; Tanya, he reminded himself, her name was Tanya. He liked it better than Netanya, less stuffy, but still quite different from the names he came across on a regular basis. Shaking himself mentally, he shifted positions slightly, fixing his gaze on the girl's face. He didn't fail to notice the relief that washed through her body, her eyes closing in what, prayer? Lord, he knew she must be from a somewhat upper class family, nothing about her screamed working class, but there was something she was purposefully leaving out, he could sense it. Mentally, Jack kicked himself for what he had to say next. There was, he reasoned, no way around it. Putting it off certainly wasn't going to beneficial to either of them.

"Tanya, Lass..." he paused again as she startled and both hands flew to the sides of the chair. Both of her eyes were open now, staring straight into his, holding on to every word he said as if each were a lifeline. "I'm more than happy to help you; but that story has more holes in it than yer ship has." He watched as the latter words seemed to pass right through her, unprocessed. Fighting to keep from reaching out to touch her hand, he purposefully softened his tone as he leaned forward slightly, catching her eye once again.

"I saw the marks luv."

Jack watched as her eyes widened, then snapped shut. He swore she had stopped breathing the moment the words had left his lips. Her face paled several shades and her fingers now clenched the arms of her chair even tighter than they had his chair earlier that day. For an instant, Jack feared that she may do an encore presentation and keel over in the chair; but he was proven wrong as her lips began to move, her speech stronger and steadier than he would have anticipated. 

*****


	6. Out in the Open

Disclaimer: Same old stuff, see chapter 1. Reviews are greatly welcome, input spurns output ya' know.

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---For an instant, Jack feared that she may do an encore presentation and keel over in her chair; but he was proven wrong as her lips began to move, her speech stronger and steadier than he would have anticipated--- 

"I'm not entirely sure what you mean Captain," she began, her voice taking on a false cheeriness. "The only marks I'm aware of came from an unfortunate accident during the recent storm." Tanya's breath hitched in her throat as the words left her mouth. She closed her eyes as she once again tried to control her emotions and memory as Jack spoke again.

"Ye were mistreated lass, in a way no man should ever mistreat a woman. You know it, I know it, and Mr. Gibbs knows it."

Tanya felt her shoulders slump as she brought her hands together in her lap. focusing intently on her hands she spoke, her voice soft and flat. "Men, Mister Sparrow... plural," pausing momentarily, she lifted her gaze to meet the Captain's before continuing, her voice never wavering in tone or strength. "Based on your earlier assertions, am I correct in assuming that you and your first mate came about his knowledge under the most honorable of circumstances?"

"Aye luv," Jacked answered her in an equally even, but he hoped warmer tone, "When we found you after the storm you were soaked though and through, and near frozen to death. Had to get ye in dry clothes to warm ye up." 

"Not withstanding," he added, "This crew sails under the understanding that all contact with females on board or off, if they wish to remain a part of the crew, must be under mutually willing circumstances or they risk the most severe punishment by the Captain. And I assure you lass, they know the punishment is not worth the risk."

The words provided scant comfort in Netanya's mind, but enough to allow her to settle into the knowledge that she had found a safer place to escape to. A wave of exhaustion passed over her as she let down some of the defenses she had been maintaining during dinner. "In that case Captain," she replied, "I believe that you have the pertinent details of my story already at your disposal. If you don't mind, I would like to retire now. I'm feeling quite exhausted."

Jack read the silent plea in Tanya's comment and decided to honor it. It did him no good, he reasoned, to press her further and risk losing what small level of trust he had gained with her. Besides which, despite the rest and decent meal, she had obviously not recovered fully from her ordeal. The physical and emotional strain showed in her eyes, her voice and even her posture. He certainly did not want to have her fainting dead away again anytime soon.

"Of course," Jack responded, gesturing to his bed, "you are more than welcome to take my bed." Seeing the expression that briefly crossed her face, he added in clarification, "And I will take the floor, until other arrangements can be made."

A small smile, the first Jack was sure he had ever noticed from her, fluttered across Tanya's lips. 

"Thank you." 

The words were little more than a murmur, but the heartfelt sincerity behind them was quite tremendous. With a smile in return, Jack reached for Tanya's untouched glass of rum and drank it down.

Taking an extra blanket from the bed, Jack waited until Tanya had made it into the bed safely before blowing out the candles at the table that had been dimly lighting the cabin. Making his way towards the center of the room with the remainder of the flask of rum safely tucked under his arm, he lay down and attempted to make himself comfortable. "Other arrangements," he thought as he took a long swig from the flask, "would have to made sooner than later." As he listened to the soft breathing coming from his bed, Jack noticed the girl fell right asleep. Briefly he toyed with visions of her lying there, but quickly stilled his thoughts as he recalled the tenuous balance of trust he had achieved. Every part of his body he decided, taking a second long swig and bringing the bottle well past the halfway mark in the process, may desire her more than anything else, but nothing would be done without her trust, let alone consent. Thoughts settled for the time being, Jack closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber.


	7. Restless Nights

**Disclaimer:** Same old same old.  Tanya's mine, story's cliché, but mine. Everything else isn't.  And, I'm not making any money from this, so Disney and Co. better not sue. :)

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A choked whimper brought Jack out of unconsciousness.  Glancing around disoriented at first, he tried to figure out where he was and what had woken him.  "Bloody hell," he began to curse out loud when another cry came from the bed beside him.  Pulling himself up along the foot of the bed, he peered into the moonlit area, squinting slightly as he tried to wake his senses a bit more. 

Someone was in his bed, his mind registered, and it wasn't him.

"Of course not you idiot," his subconscious kicked back, "you gave her your bed for the time being."

Why the bloody hell had he gone and done a ridiculous thing like that?  Given the circumstances, he was quite sure it made much more sense, at least to certain parts of his brain and body, to share the bed.  "That," he reasoned, "at least prevented one from waking up cold on the floor of one's own cabin in the middle of the night for God's sake."

On the bed, Tanya lay asleep; caught in whatever madness her mind could create.  Her cries grew steadily louder and more agitated, progressing to unintelligible statements tinged with terror and desperation.

Sighing inwardly, Jack knelt on the bed beside her, gingerly placing his hand on her shoulder.  "Wake up luv," he murmured as his gaze took in her appearance.  Lying on her back, her arms and legs moved restlessly, jerkily as she fought her inner demons.  At his touch, she gasped, sucking in her breath, and rolled over, placing her back to him as she curled her body up as tightly as possible.  She did not wake; but her cries increased, her words becoming increasingly clear to Jack's ears.  "Papa… NO!…don't hurt him.. please..," her voice trailed off into a whimper again with the last word.  

"Tanya luv, wake up," Jack spoke again as he reached to grasp her shoulder.  "It's just a dream."  Becoming increasingly agitated, Tanya's sleeping form reeled back at his touch and let out a strangled scream.  "Shhh…," Jack soothed as he drew the girl into his arms, pinning her arms and legs against her body as he cradled her against his chest.  "It's only a dream lass, no one's going to her ye here."  Shushing softly as the stifled cries turned into heaving sobs, Jack continued to hold the girl tightly.  Fierce anger toward her captors boiled in his heart, but was channeled, for the time being, into bring some level of comfort to the slowly quieting figure lying in his arms.  As her breathing began to calm and her sobs dissolved into choked hiccups and sighs, Jack spoke once more.

"Are you awake now lass?  It was just a dream."

Feeling the girl stiffen briefly in his arms when he spoke, Jack looked down and met her gaze in the moonlight.  Piercingly intense at first, blazing with pent up anger, her gaze faded out to a dull stare as she answered him in a voice that matched the change.

"Nay.  T'was more than a dream, was a memory."

With a tired, soft sigh, she turned her head, effectively blocking her face from Jack's direct view and squeezed her eyes shut against unshed tears that threatened to stream down her face with the slightest provocation.

Feeling Tanya's body relax in his arms, and noting she was making no efforts to get free of his embrace, Jack shifted back into a sitting position, swinging his legs out from under him and leaning up against the head of the bed.  Moving one of his arms away for just a moment, he pulled a blanket over their bodies as he continued to cradle the distraught woman in his arms.  "Would you like to talk about it now luv?"  Jack pressed the girl slightly, knowing she was greatly in need of the opportunity to tell her story, whether she realized it yet or not.


	8. Revelations 10

DISCLAIMER: Jack and anything from the movie isn't mine. Tanya is, so please ask if you're going to borrow her and/or her experiences. Don't bother suing, I just finished college and have absolutely NO money. :) Now, on with the story.

"My mother and I lived with my father in a little sea town outside of London." Tanya began, her soft voice growing stronger as she spoke of the less painful parts of her past. "Father was a merchant sailor and was frequently at sea for months on end. Two years ago, Mother took ill while he was on a voyage to the East Indies. Our physician could not determine her illness in time and she died two days before Father returned. We had no one left in our family but the two of us. Not wanting to give up the freedoms of trade, Father and I made the decision to sell everything owned on land in England, and live at sea. We decided to make a living continuing to work Fathers trade routes. For the last two years I've learned the ways of a ship and the sea has become my home. Father and I never had any real confrontations at sea until two weeks ago."

Here, Tanya paused, looking up briefly at Jack; trying to gauge how much she could trust to say to him, trying to anticipate his reaction. Searching his face she saw a flat, almost impassive expression. However, his eyes tempered his features. There was softness in those deep, brown eyes. Even as there were darkened by the rings of Kohl, the intense concern and tenderness that Tanya saw in Jack's face shone through and strengthened her resolve. For now, she reasoned to herself, she would keep talking. She couldn't explain the feeling deep inside her, pushing out from behind her fear and distrust and her belief that no one would really want to hear what had happened, that feeling drove her to continue for as long as she could stand.

"Early one morning, as we were anchored off the coast of Santo Domingo, we were boarded by a pirate crew. Most of Father's crew was off of the ship, on shore leave for the evening. Only about ten men excluding us had remained on board for the night. Papa and I didn't like to leave the ship unless it was absolutely necessary. We had come to view it as our home. It was a short battle since we were vastly outnumbered. Papa tried to keep me safe from them, to hide me, and for his efforts I watched him get cut down by their first mate. They looted and burned the ship; killed what little of the crew was on board and too me as a… prisoner." Here, Tanya's voice faltered and she paused in her storytelling, causing Jack's suspicions that her experiences had been much more terrible to become stronger. Tanya had disentangled herself from Jack's supportive, friendly embrace while she had been speaking and had sat upright, her eyes focused on her hands while she had clasped tightly together in her lap. As she described the fate of the ship and it's crew, she rose and started pacing back and forth alongside the bed. Jack remained sitting up in the bed, patiently eying Tanya as she spoke, carefully gauging her response. Her move to begin pacing had caught him by surprise. This woman, he determined as she watched her hands clench and unclench at her sides, had a strength he hadn't seen before in such a seemingly refined woman.

Jack blinked and snapped out of his reverie as Tanya began to speak once again. She had stopped her pacing momentarily and was standing in the middle of the cabin. Her body was illuminated by moonlight coming through the cabin window, but her head and shoulders remained hidden in the shadows, creating an ethereal feeling in the room, as her voice broke into the night once again, soft and emotionless, yet still hesitant.

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I'm soooo sorry to leave ya'll hanging again.. :-P, I just got my internet and computer back after moving into my first apartment and finishing college (kinda - its a long story). please grace me with your patience for just a few more days and I will have more of the story up, I promise. My muse is itching to get free and wreak havoc amonst the fanfic world. :) ty- A.H.Smith


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